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Almost dead to me: Adidas

July 11, 2011

So hey, I could pretend that I haven’t written in months because I realized that to wax on existentially about shoes is  faintly self-indulgent, sniff, but in reality, the pause was a due to much baser reasons. Such as sloth.

Anyways – I just re-read my last entry to remind myself where I was EMOTIONALLY and SPIRITUALLY last winter – and good lord – get thee to a sanitarium. Winter does wear on one. As you can imagine I managed to muddle through – and have ended up on the other side into a more palatable season – ie. summer.

So like here’s the thing – there’s only so many twee flats and gladiator sandals a girl can get excited about. I dunno – summers have  always been a bit tough for me – because I don’t like wedges and espadrilles and shit – and I feel this PRESSURE to have cute heels that I can march about in all day so that I can wear skirts and dresses and like – I’ll admit it – a romper or playsuit (oy the shame of it).

However the deep unease towards summer shoe goes deeper. Remember that one summer I lived in New York?  You’ve heard tell of it before.  It was so humid and revolting and my feet got so totally shredded, that I was a hobbling wretch confined to flip flops. Anyhoo – this unease was FURTHER compounded earlier this summer – because boyf and I were getting hitched and I was searching for wedding shoe and like – I was ready to throw down exorbitantly on something entirely ridiculous. And nada. There was as a lot of strange patent leather with very stacked platforms that were not in keeping with the more textured, romantic look I was after. I felt very bewildered and then generally hostile and then I ordered shoes online. THESE!

Kate Spade Dreamer. Love bombs.

Kate Spade – which for purses was always a big ol’ blerg in my book – but I loved these suckers – classic pump lines in fuchsia with a heart decal on the front. They SCREAM romance. And to my groom – YOU WILL LOVE ME.

Anyways the point of this post isn’t to descend into ranting and railing against the dearth of shoe stores in Toronto – one of my favourite  soap boxes – but instead it’s to revisit one of my other favourite topics: The Summer Sneaker.

So this is an interesting one – because last year I got another fresh pair of Rod Lavers – oft heralded here as the over-arching perfect sneaker – and a pair of white high top chucks. These are the cornerstones of summer sneakerdom – classics that fill voids – physical, emotional – with their simplicity and timelessness. So I thought I was set this summer.

But then I started having weird, uncomfortable thoughts. Like, oh god, maybe I need a svelte little, canvas sneaker. ie. Maybe I need a Ked.

Ked. So jaunty. So malevolent.

Echhh Keds. Keds were for the girls who didn’t wear chucks – and what kind of girl was that? She was the same girl who also wore Treatorns. Poor creatures. And last summer I had this whole thing about BOYS suddenly wearing Keds – intrinsically and intractably wrong. All of it was contrary to my sense of self – but at the same time I felt perversely drawn to the Ked.

I tried to distract myself with Vans or even those pervy, skinny, Euro low-top converse? It was all getting exceeding dire and looking likely to develop into a classic scoff’n want (see birks, clogs, jazz shoes) – when I was rescued by one of my once go-to – but recently dormant in my mind – brands.

I’ve always been a Nike person – except when I was an Adidas person. And I was an Adidas person for a longggggg time. Aforementioned Rod Lavers had always been a staple – and sure,  I’d also gone off the reservation with some hideous Adidas like the Good Year quilted, green Formula 1 driving shoes – anyone? There was velcro involved.

But for the past couple years – I’ve been bored to tears with one Gazelle and Campus and Forest Hill after the next – not to mention the reissues of vintage Rods and Stan Smiths. I mean snooze-festival. Conversely, I was buying Air Max and Jordans and Blazers and Trainers at a rapid rate. And sure I made some mistakes with Nikes too – Air Raids anyone? (velcro was involved),  but at least Nike was keeping it interesting.

So long story short – now much, much too late for that – I’m into Adidas again!  The Adidas store in Toronto sorta blows, because I find the staff aloof and wall whut whut? – but it has some solid merch. I got these and these.

Easy Five. Suspiciously Ked-like.

Azzie Mid. Axel would have totally worn these.

And I mean this shit isn’t even canvas or plain old cotton – IT’S TWILL PEOPLE.  Twill. Woven in some pre-industrial mill by half blind widows!

Also, if you can’t hack Queen St. – there’s also Live Stock which has some lovely Adidas and the dudes are very nice there.

Sigh. So what does it all mean? I was close to casting off Adidas into the bin of second class citizens like Puma and Asics and horror-of-horrors Reebok. But this renaissance is making me question how quick I am to reject and rebuke. Has this whole better or worse rhetoric around marriage infected my brain and made me a sap who gives second and third chances?  I’ll be rediscovering the glories of  Campers next. And then what for me?

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